


Indulge

by Lightpoint



Series: The Rule of Two [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Abuse of the Galactic Empire's Hard-Earned Tax Dollars, Alternate Universe - Dark, Clones, Debauchery, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/M, Force Sex (Star Wars), Hedonism, Master & Apprentice, Master/Apprentice, Masturbation, Power Dynamics, Rey the Closet Hedonist, Save Water Shower With a Friend, Seduction to the Dark Side, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, Sith, Sith Code, Sith Rey, Sith Shenanigans, Sith on Sith Action, Sugar Daddy Sidious, The Dark Side of the Force, Voyeurism, Young Darth Sidious, except not really, he really really likes his new bod, high-tech contraceptives, so does Rey, they have to blend in with the Coruscant elite, they're totally having fun tho, twenty-something clone bod
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 20:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7068865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightpoint/pseuds/Lightpoint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darth Sidious suspected that if she had the means and the time, Rey would rather enjoy living in her skin. And after all, a Master is certainly allowed to indulge his Apprentice...</p><p>Or, the one where Darth Sidious starts to rebuild his power base, and shows Sith!Rey a good time.</p><p>Starts out pre-TFA and then progresses beyond the Battle of Starkiller Base.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Delicacy

**Author's Note:**

> ...A logical extension of [this prompt](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3467.html?thread=6252939#cmt6252939) from the The Force Awakens Kink meme. I'm not even sorry. Note that all of the context/backstory is in the previous 2 stories.  
>  **The prompt:**  
>  'Darth Sidious starts to teach Rey because he senses great potential in her and such. Rey catches up pretty quickly. She also develops a crush on Palpatine, (perhaps because she's not used to people caring for her in any way, or whatever). He decides to use it as an advantage.'
> 
> ...This one pretty much jumps right into the UST and, later, smut. Yay?

Rey enjoyed the little things. Over the years, she had amassed a rather impressive collection of greenery, some native to Jakku, some not. Her favorites were the spineflowers she found occasionally while scavenging the wastes, tucked under rocks, or fluttering quietly in the bright sand. Sidious took to watching her cup the small, soft blooms in her rough, but somehow delicate hands – the very image of hardy beauty. Rough but ephemeral, soft, silken blooms that came alive at night, only to vanish inside crusty shells when Jakku’s harsh sun returned.

Much like his Apprentice, to be quite honest.

They had a rather nice scent to them, too. Rey kept the petals – _waste not_ – dried them, and either pressed them into intricate designs on thin paper or cloth, or crushed them on hot stone to extract the scent. Sometimes, after one of the rare times she indulged in the _Gorgon’s_ sonic shower, she would dab some of the home-made perfume behind her ears, or along her elegant, slender throat. Just a touch. He always sat closer when she wore it. 

It had a unique scent…spicy and earthy, with just a hint of musk. Though the latter might have just been _her._ Perhaps it enhanced her natural charms…He didn't exactly mind the smell of her sweat. Especially when she was nearing the end of her daily training, her thin shirt soaked, limbs loose from a day spent dancing with the Dark Side.

Lovely.

He had a feeling that if she had the means and the time, Rey would rather enjoy living in her skin.

 

*

 

Sometimes she missed the early days. Rey certainly wouldn't speak of it in her Master’s presence, but in the early hours of the morning, wiping the sleep out of her eyes with a damp cloth, she found herself remembering all the times Sidious had let her help him. 

It hadn't taken her long to figure out that Sidious certainly could have survived without her. He would have been weak, yes. It would have taken him far longer to stand up straight and tall, to walk, to run, to live on Jakku without sticking out. Certainly his frail, withered frame would not have firmed, healed as fast as it had, and grown strong with lean ropes of muscle and deceptively delicate skin. The shock of red hair was doubly surprising. As were the freckles. _Freckles…_ Rey giggled. They were _everywhere._

But he would have survived. Just last week her Master had thrown her off the top of the _Ravager,_ counted out two seconds, and then dived headfirst after her. The Sith could have easily lifted himself out of the belly of the _Gorgon._ But he’d let her all but carry him. And she kind of missed it.

Especially when she remembered how she found the freckles. 

Even after he’d been strong enough to be moved, he still needed assistance bathing. Rey’s rudimentary medical knowledge, and a quiet suggestion from her new friend, told her that humans in such a state needed to stay clean and active to ward off infection. She had refitted the AT-AT’s tiny ‘fresher shortly after she had moved in so that it drained into a water purification unit – just a simple filter and UV radiator that separated out the dirt and saved the leftover water in a tank above the sanitation unit. The refresher in the _Gorgon_ was in much better shape, but it was impractical to shuttle to the ship and back just to get clean. They’d be filthy again after the speeder ride, anyway. 

So she’d helped him walk on shaky legs into the shower, oddly nervous as she helped him with the ties of his light robe. Rey’s long-held feelings on wasting water triumphed over modesty. She removed her own clothes with brisk, businesslike hands, avoiding his eyes. He’d slumped against the wall by the time she was naked, eyes squeezed tight. 

“Not looking,” he said quietly, that half-smile curling on the edge of his lips.

“Such a gentleman,” said Rey, somehow feeling more naked than before. She shook it off (mostly) and focused on the task at hand. 

She wound up at Sidious’ back, supporting him with one hand, scrubbing as gently as she could with the other, growing warmer as his contented sigh curled her toes. 

“I never thought I’d feel this again,” he murmured. He rolled his shoulders and neck, wincing as the vertebrae popped. Rey paused, feeling his body move under her hands, very aware of the warm water caressing her skin.

“Has it been a long time?” she asked, unconsciously stepping closer. 

“Yes,” he said, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Can you lift your arm?” asked Rey, swallowing dryly. His skin shivered and puckered as she ran the cloth along his flank. Then the light shifted, and she spotted something. It was…spots?

“You have _freckles?”_

Sidious groaned with exasperation.

“I thought I covered you up enough – these are all over your shoulders.” Rey leaned in to get a closer look.

“Well, the robe probably shifted a little a couple times…They come with the hair.”

“Hey, that’s growing back too,” said Rey. Her knuckles brushed against bright red, prickly stubble slowly forming on the back of his skull. “I’ve never seen that color before…” Sidious chuckled.

“Trust me, it’s natural.”

She finished his back quickly.

“We can’t do this all the time, you know,” she said when she started on his chest, keeping her eyes firmly on his face. The warm water had given his face a light flush, highlighting his sharp cheekbones. He seemed less gaunt than even this morning. He was actually rather…

“Is it the water?” Sidious murmured, tilting his head to give her better access to his neck. Rey nodded. 

“Once you’re better we’re going to have to hold off for awhile…Since there’s two of us drinking it, we’ll need to store it up.”

Sidious nodded. She could tell he wasn't happy about it, though.

 

*

 

They still showered together after Sidious took Rey as an Apprentice, but it was a completely different experience. Tending to her Master was just another one of her tasks. They’d get in, Rey would lather him up quickly, not wasting time or water. He’d leave as soon as she’d worked the knots out of his hair (a rather significant task, as he wore it long and it had come in thick and red and _glorious…_ ), turn the water off, and she’d wash up with what was left in the tank. 

Sometimes he let her have it to herself as a reward, usually when he was out in the Graveyard or trading for portions in the Outpost. Rey enjoyed every minute of it. She made the water so hot that she breathed steam, and all the aches and pains of a hard day’s training drained out of her muscles, leaving her relaxed, her skin tingling. 

In fact, if she closed her eyes, the bite of steam could almost be breath, hot and wet and panting at the back of her neck. The slick heat of soap and fingers could be a tongue and teeth laving her nipples, the pounding water pressure could be strong, clever fingers teasing across the curve of her thigh, gripping her hip hard enough to bruise, spreading her thighs wide so that a lean, hard body could press close and hot between them. He’d grind her, rough an insistent, against the wall and _lift,_ cradling her with the Force, leaving his hands free to knead her breasts, to fill her, fingers long and slick and deep, opening her for – 

Rey was reasonably certain that her Master could not sense her from Niima Outpost if she was careful with her shielding. 

_And would it be so bad if he did?_ the traitorous part of her mind whispered. 

_Focus,_ Rey thought. The Sith did not deny themselves as the Jedi did. The trick was to not let the _wanting_ that was an unavoidable part of being alive in one’s flesh consume you. 

_The Dark Side is not for the faint of heart,_ Sidious had told her, time and time again. _You must control it, or it will control you._ He’d filled her mind with harrowing stories of ancient Sith who had failed utterly in this regard, and had become creatures of appetite, little more than hulking maws of gluttony and lust, consuming everything in their path. He even went so far to say that the Jedi had done them a great service when they hunted such rogue Sith down. 

Rey was stronger than that. But she had to wonder how her Master handled his own desires, whatever they were.

 

*

 

Sidious stretched languidly, reclining against his speeder on the outskirts of Niima, the Dark Side caressing his senses as he withdrew carefully from his Apprentice’s mind. Images of said Apprentice naked and moaning underneath him still danced behind his eyelids. He moved his hands carefully, the feel of wet, soft skin still alive at his fingertips, and reluctantly willed his erection away.

That had been most illuminating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mea culpa. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa. >:)
> 
> This will ~~probably have 2 parts~~ 3 parts, the third being when they get the hell off Jakku and Sidious accesses the 30 years of compounded interest in his super-secret 'all your tax dollars belong to me, your Emperor, even 30 years after my death' bank account on Muunilinst (because of course it's on Muunilinst). The ensuing debauchery would have bankrupted several planets.


	2. Savor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey takes precautions, and exercises her control. If you know what I mean.

Two years after ‘the Road War,’ as the Niima locals called the escalation of three offworlders’ attack on Rey en route to the _Gorgon,_ talking to Vona still rankled. She didn’t have to be Bevel Lemelisk to figure out who sent them after her. But the aging woman dealt in certain items that were hard to come by anywhere in range of her speeder. She’d begrudgingly reserved (with an exorbitant ‘security deposit’) a number of hard-to-find micro-electronics that she and her Master needed for their lightsabers. 

And one small, personal item. Vona had charged extra for her silence. 

“Are you sure you’re going to need this?” Vona asked, squinting at Rey. “You bled yet?”

“Yes,” Rey said curtly, her countenance stony. It had been a very unpleasant surprise. Years of malnutrition and over-exertion had postponed her ‘moon blood’ until after she turned 17. Rey blamed the sudden excess of nourishment and, from a certain point of view, the strange security she’d felt when Sidious came into her life. 

The Dark Side was everywhere, in everything. It made sense that it had affected her body, especially after she took her proper place in the Force. 

Still, it was one more thing to worry about. And she could seriously do without the accompanying pain.

“How will I know that it works? Trial and error is not acceptable.” Vona laughed.

“Your hip will be sore for a few days,” she said. “The veins around the area are going to puff a little – probably turn blue, too – but that’s normal, just the signal getting into your woman-parts.”

Rey grimaced. She hated using tech that she didn’t understand. She could rip apart engines like nobody’s business, but biotech…

“Fine,” said Rey. She took a deep breath and pulled off her tunic. “Do it.”

“Trousers down, too,” said Vona, balancing the transparisteel case on her knees. She swabbed a patch of skin on Rey’s lower abdomen with disinfectant. 

The implant went in easily – it was only a centimeter square, and was of the type that could be embedded in the skin. Some of the cheaper versions required full sedation, as they needed to be clamped directly to the uterus, and half the time the female’s body rejected them. 

And, Sith or not, there was no way Rey was getting invasive surgery on a dirty table in Vona’s tent.

“All done,” said Vona finally, slapping a bacta patch (another extra charge) over the incision. Rey nodded, and made to leave, but Vona held up a hand to stop her.

“You can do better,” she said. “That man of yours? He’s nothing.”

Rey thanked the Force that she’d already meditated.

“Then who would you suggest? Cerebos? The _warlord?_ After what he did?”

Cerebos the Great had developed an almost pathological obsession with Rey after she destroyed his personal ship during the Road War. He’d cornered her in Niima shortly after she’d gotten Sidious home, and asked her to _marry_ him. 

She’d politely declined. Giving a Graveyard warlord ‘many strong sons and fierce daughters’ wasn’t exactly one of her life goals, no matter how big someone’s army was. Repeated kidnapping attempts during her trips to Niima hadn’t exactly helped. Things had calmed down after Plutt threatened to cut the Glorious Army of the Mighty One off from the Outpost. And even raiders living in a rotting Super Star Destroyer needed supplies from offworld. 

Rey smiled to herself. That story had gotten a real laugh out of Sidious. 

“And why not?” Vona snapped. “I’ve visited the _Ravager._ You’d have a good life.” 

“No,” Rey said, calling on the Force to keep her voice level. “And you should shut up. Now.”

 _“Vo-da-car,”_ Vona hissed. “You’re no better, _beth’at!”_

Rey turned and left. Far too many witnesses. 

 

*

 

Rey pondered her decision on the ride home. It was reversible. If she wanted children somewhere down the line, she could get the implant removed. A lot of females had them on Jakku, both as a conventional precaution and, to be brutally honest, as ‘rape insurance.’ Not that she needed the latter. Rey smiled grimly. She was a rather hard target these days. 

_It’s just a precaution. I’m thinking ahead. Preparing for all possibilities. What if I meet someone? It’s not forbidden. Why not?_ Rey ran through her standard list of justifications. The quiet one, the secret one, though, grew louder with every throb of pain in her abdomen.

_If he wants me…_

She clenched her jaw. All he’d have to do was crook his finger. Or smile. 

_Maybe he’s waiting for this,_ she thought wildly. _I took the initiative. Accepted my desires. I’m managing them, like a true Sith._

She shuddered as she felt herself growing wet. The rumbling vibrations of the speeder between her legs did _not_ help. 

 

*

 

Rey was a shaking mess by the time she made it home. She cast about wildly for Sidious’ presence, almost groaning in relief when she did not sense him. He was probably in the _Gorgon’s_ map room, or paging through the archives. 

She did, though, catch the lingering edge of his presence – ozone and burning metal – so he hadn’t been gone for long.

 _I have some time,_ Rey thought wildly. 

She stowed her purchases as quickly as she could – lightsaber parts, she’d be hanging from the hull of the _Ravager_ if anything happened to them – and all but ran into their room, fumbling at the ties of her tunic as she went.

Rey paused at the bed. He hadn’t made the bed that morning, and she wasn’t due to change the sheets until tomorrow. Her rough pallet lay cold and hard and alone. Would it really be so wrong…

_Fuck it._

She stripped the rest of the way and climbed into his bed, sighing as softness and scent cradled her. She paused, catching her breath, and stretched out, arching her back like a cat in the well-worn, soft sheets, savoring every slide of material on her skin. 

Rey rolled her head on the pillow, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. His scent – dry lightning and male and _power_ \-- enveloped her senses, the lingering wisp of his presence caressing her, setting her blood aflame. Slowly she drew the sheet up to her neck and ran her hands up and down her body, letting her mind slip into fantasy. She groaned as the palm of her hand ground against the peak of her nipple, the cloth adding delicious friction to the hard nub. Arching her back, she kneaded her breasts roughly and spread her legs, panting as heat swelled inside of her. A hand drifted down and brushed feather-light against her hip.

“Master…” she whispered. “Please…”

Rey pressed lower and cupped her mound, dragging a finger across the thin cloth, shuddering as wetness soaked through the sheet. _Not enough._ She delved deeper, twisting her fingers, grinding into her slit, gasping as her fingertip brushed the edge of her entrance. 

Finally, she pulled the sheet away and spread her legs wide, gasping as the cool night air touched her overheated skin. Rey gripped the sheets and squeezed her eyes tight, breathing hard as she fought her arousal down, the hot throb almost driving her out of her head. She wasn’t sure when she would get another chance at this. It had to be _savored._

The Dark Side purred its approval. Rey almost laughed out loud in triumph. 

_You see, Master?_

She slipped a finger inside, opening herself greedily as she rubbed slow circles around her clit. Three fingers was nothing, an easy slip-slide into heat. She pressed deep and hard and fast, trembling as her thoughts tumbled with how much _more_ the stretch would burn if she took those long, clever fingers or – she hardly dared to think it, even when he was out of range – his flushed, thick cock. Her Master slept naked during the summer months -- human physiology being what it was, she’d once caught a glimpse of him tousled and sleepy, the sheets slipped halfway down his thighs, his cock straining against his stomach. 

And then he’d spotted her.

Needless to say, she’d gotten the hell out, but what if…

What if he beckoned, drew her down under the covers, and ground languidly against her thigh, eyes glowing yellow and hot in the dim light…

 _Remind me, Apprentice, of your duties…_ he’d whisper, his breath burning in her ear, lips a brand on her neck. 

_To serve you, Master,_ she’d whisper, and cant her hips up as he thumbed her clit, spread her lips wide. 

_Yes,_ he’d say, and press hot and hard against her entrance, just enough to let her feel how _full_ she was going to be, and – 

Rey came with a scream, fingers twisting desperately as she went over the edge. The Dark Side throbbed, languid and close, almost gentle. A satiated caress.

Slowly, Rey came back to herself. She stood, legs wobbling, and pulled the sheets off her Master’s bed. She’d come up with some excuse as to why she’d done the laundry early. And then she’d meditate. 

All she’d done was take the edge off. Perhaps the Force would give her clarity.

 

*

 

Sidious sat cross-legged on top of the AT-AT, waiting for the metal to cool and the stars to come out. He masked his presence until Rey went to sleep, her mind considerably quieter, her body temporarily tamed. 

_Impressive,_ he thought. Clearly she was taking his teachings to heart.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1\. Headcanon:** Jakku is basically a post-apocalyptic wasteland. So, yeah, I have an excuse to use some elements from the Mad Max universe. Such as raider tribes and warlords setting up shop in some of the abandoned starships, and Niima Outpost being one of the bastions of civilization (comparatively speaking, ergh). It's also a valued 'supply line', so Unkarr has pull with the nastier factions. 
> 
> 2\. The 'Road War' is going to happen in chapter 5 of 'Counting Days'. It's pretty much the definition of [ 'well that escalated quickly'. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FONN-0uoTHI) Unkar Plutt threatened to cut off the raiders because a load of other scavengers, offworlders, and other local riff-raff basically used the incident as an excuse to mix it up. Very bad for business. Plutt has his own hired muscle, you see...yay four-way fight!
> 
> 3\. The whole 'contraceptive and STD blocking implant' thing is everywhere in Star Wars fic these days. I figured it'd go well here, and show the allure of [antici...............pation. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wlwnbcxBuzI)
> 
> 4\. Yeah, he totally knows. He's just saving it up, Rey... >:)


	3. Coruscant Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General Organa sends Sidious and Rey on a mission to Coruscant. There's a lot to do on Coruscant. Especially for two people ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This chapter starts up sometime after the events of Episode VII. I'm keeping the time line ambiguous, because Episode VIII, well, doesn't exist yet. As I'm sure some of you know ;)
> 
> 2\. Also, I'm assuming that everyone reading this has read 'Edge of Night'. But for those who might not have, they *got it on* right before they left Jakku. Rey's Sith Initiation got pretty wild ;) And remember that her Sith name is 'Lyre.'

Rey drummed her fingers on the steel edge of her bunk, her regret over leaving her data pad back at the Resistance base growing every second. She peered out from behind her sackcloth hood for what felt like the thousandth time, surveying the smoke-stained cargo hold of the _Proud May,_ a retrofitted troop transport that dated back (as far as Rey could tell, anyway) to the early days of the Old Empire, or perhaps, even, the Clone Wars. 

It certainly smelled like it. She smiled slightly, remembering her first trip down into the lower levels of the _Gorgon._ They weren’t in the bilge, but the hundreds of hygienically challenged beings packed inside were making a valiant attempt at replicating the scent. 

_Two more days,_ Rey thought. Two days longer than a trip from Muunillist to Coruscant should have been, but given the state of the ship…She winced as the tell-tale whine of an old hyperdrive burning corrupted fuel pierced her eardrums, the deck shuddering as a depleted canister fell away to be vaporized (probably) in the bright void of hyperspace. 

At least the captain knew not to push the _May’s_ limits. 

_Too much stress on_ those _engines and we’re vapor. Decent salvage, though…_ Rey thought idly. The first few days of the long slog from Muunillist, Rey had kept herself entertained by pacing the scant open space in the hold and the few nearby compartments that she and her fellow steerage passengers were allowed in, sizing up her surroundings, assessing their value. The rhythmic hum-throb in the bulkhead near the red and blue pipes on the port side meant a mostly-intact ion oscillator, placed rather too close to the engine room for comfort, but still worth at least four portions. The old electric lights strung from the overhead and rusty support struts would fetch a quarter portion apiece. And all of the rough, stained bedding in the steerage hold would _maybe_ fetch one portion, if Plutt was feeling generous…

Rey wrinkled her nose. She could feel the old, cold metal right through the mattress. 

_I’m getting soft._ Back on Jakku she would have fallen asleep the second her head hit that pillow. And now she was fantasizing about burning the damn thing, and all but counting the minutes until they got to Coruscant.

General Organa had tasked them with investigating rumors of a bio-weapon development complex. Apparently the bulk of the Resistance’s field agents had either been on Hosnian Prime when Starkiller fired, or were being systematically rooted out, thanks to Snoke letting the Knights of Ren off of their collective leash while their leader did his penance.

In other words, Organa needed spies. Being new to the Resistance, neither Rey nor Sidious were especially recognizable, even in the wake of Starkiller. At least, not to the vast majority of the galaxy; they were both under strict orders to get the hell out if Ren or any of the Knights got anywhere near the planet.

 _Not that there’s much risk of that,_ Rey thought. The First Order had not yet solidified their presence in the Core systems, though they were certainly growing in influence. The local population knew it, too, and were justifiably wary – Starkiller had shown that the First Order, while small on its own, had powerful backers with nearly unlimited resources. And even broken beasts were still dangerous. 

“They must have had money to burn if they threw it all into that…thing,” Sidious had said during their pre-mission briefing, his usual neutral tone (carefully calibrated for Resistance high command strategy meetings, and every time he passed Organa in the corridors) laced with sarcasm. “It just worked out _so well_ the last two times.”

That drew a grin – and a few nervous laughs – from everyone except the General. 

“Indeed,” she said finally, after the laughter died. “It is unwise to forget history.”

She’d sent them anyway. 

Their cover story was appropriately tragic. Their village had been burned by raiders. They had barely escaped with the clothes on their backs. ‘Sheev’, as he’d dubbed himself (because it was apparently one of the most common human names in the galaxy, a fact which amused him immensely for some reason), had worked odd jobs in the local spaceport, while his wife, Rey, had cleaned the kitchen in a seedy bar. They slept on the street until they saved enough for a spot on the _Proud May._

They’d been cheated, of course, and had received a single bunk in one of the cargo holds, a narrow, dark thing in a stack of a dozen other bunks, packed with beings in similar circumstances.

They were met with very little suspicion. Rey would shrink away and cling to her ‘husband’ when asked – a rare occurrence, that, as Sidious’ glare was enough to keep most of them away. When he wanted to, her Master could project an aura of _power_ that had nothing to do with the Force. Everything about him promised a painful death to anyone stupid enough to cross him. It wasn’t long before everyone began giving him a wide berth, and ducking their heads to avoid his gaze, curling in on themselves in an attempt to be _smaller._

Not for the first time, Rey wondered what his life had been before he’d been buried with the _Gorgon._

Rey was also treated to an especially creative form of torture. Their bunk was very narrow, and in the night-cycle the captain all but shut down the heater coils to save power, meaning that the hold was a few degrees above freezing. They’d been informed by the other passengers (and rather crudely, at that), that for humans the best way to stay warm was skin-to-skin contact. And so they slept pressed together in a well of heat, her breasts crushed against his chest, head tucked underneath his chin, her arms wrapped around his narrow waist (and his around hers) so that they wouldn’t fall out of the bunk. They kept their undergarments on, though, so there was very little that she could do about the thigh nestled tight and hot between her legs, every small shift grinding rough cloth against her center. Her Master pushed her hands away in the mornings, when she awoke with a sharp breath in her ear, and him hard and restless, burning against her skin even through his undergarment. 

Their neighbors were not nearly as modest. She’d taken to stuffing her ears with cotton after the first night, after hours of keening, desperate cries and the slick, obscene rhythm of hundreds of minds sloppy with lust drove her to the edge and kept her there until morning, leaving her with a soaked undergarment and an amused Master, who treated the situation as a test of her control. 

“Listen, Apprentice,” he murmured in her ear, shifting his body so that her pebbled nipples ground painfully against his skin. “Listen to them. Rutting like beasts in heat. Would you like to join them?” His voice darkened as she pressed closer and shook her head, biting her lip as a wave of arousal flooded her core. “I know they’d take you. That one over there…” Sidious drew the covers down and peered over her shoulder, his fingers digging into the exposed lines of her back. He smirked at the man in the bunk across from theirs as he traced the curve of her spine. Rey felt the stranger track the motion of that hand, his unshielded mind blaring with crude fantasy. 

Darth Lyre hissed, bit down on her hand, and pulled the covers back over them. 

_“Only if you come too,”_ she growled, and reached into the Force. Sidious’ presence remained closed to her, a web of dark ice that shifted, cracked, and reformed whenever she drew near. _Not tonight, then,_ she thought, disappointed, and pushed the primal need away, ripped the delicious, barbed hooks out of her mind, and finally clawed her way back to _control._

In the morning when she was back in her clothes, her head cleared enough to consider the possibility that Sidious was having the same problem. She hadn’t imagined the slither of dark, possessive satisfaction in his voice, the twitch of his hips when she’d mastered herself. 

It was the same the next night. And the next. 

Her mind returned again and again to the memory of the last time they’d shared flesh – in a bunk on the _Falcon,_ one hand clapped over her mouth as her Master filled her cunt with his fingers and her ears with writhing, possessive words, the Force alight with the guilty arousal of the Resistance pilot and the ex-stormtrooper, and the half-amused, half-regretful nostalgia of the smuggler. He’d spilled into her hand, the thick length of him a burning reminder of the time he’d taken her on the _Gorgon._

So Rey was frustrated, and very confused. Her initiation, one rough tumble on a freighter, and then nothing, not even when they had an actual bed. The Resistance had given them their own room, out of deference to their assumed relationship, but the walls were thin, and each day typically left them little time for anything extra save meditation and sleep, and the occasional bout in the training rooms. 

_Priorities,_ he’d said. And Rey knew that he was right. But still…

 

*

 

The trip couldn’t end fast enough. Sidious’s patience – if not his _control,_ per se – was fraying rapidly. He grew used the rancid stench of the other passengers after a couple days, and he’d always been able to adapt to new situations. However, steerage was far too crowded to risk a full-on training session – even the side compartments offered little privacy during the day, which meant that guided mediation with his Apprentice was impossible. Two humans sitting together, not moving or speaking, their minds obviously quite far away would attract more attention in this place than if he stripped her naked and fucked her up against the wall. 

_Best not to dwell on it,_ Sidious thought as he passed a half-dressed couple doing just that. His temper flared – he shoved down the urge to rip them apart, his fingers digging into the coarse material of his robe. 

Rey was dealing with it quite well, to be honest. Years of isolation simply hadn’t prepared her for the roiling mass of humanity (among other things) on the _Proud May,_ the scrabbling needs of the other passengers filling the Force, clawing after whatever brief pleasure they could grasp. She’d adapted, had not let it swamp her reason, even as that same hunger thrummed through her young body, so recently awakened under his hands.

With all of his talk of control, he had to lead by example. So he focused on the filth, the cold, the inane thoughts of the others, and shored up his contempt for their vapid dreams with reason and memory. It made a serviceable – if far from perfect – antidote to the warm, yielding flesh pressed flush against him every night, desire licking at the edges of his shields.

There was a time and place for everything, and a filthy mattress under the eyes of the dregs of the galaxy was most definitely not it.

_I could make them forget…_

He pushed the thought away.

_One more day…_

 

*

 

Rey laughed and sucked in deep breaths of delicious, unrecycled air. They had just cleared Customs, subtle use of the Force speeding the way, despite their clumsily forged visas, and stood on the edge of the skylane, attempting to flag down a shuttle. The light was different here. The Coruscant climate control machines that kept the atmosphere scrubbed of most pollutants had also tempered the heat and light of the system’s middle-aged sun. It was a warmth that you could bask in, instead of flee from, lest you burn. She felt a quiet flicker of amusement from her Master.

“It will still burn,” he said quietly. “It will just take longer. Trust me.”

“You’ve been here before?” she asked. The edge of his mouth quirked up.

“Oh yes,” he said. “I lived here for quite a while.”

“Really?” she asked, not surprised. Sidious had stepped off the ship with the ease born of long familiarity. His first look at the skyline had been colored with what she had come to recognize as the light edge of a memory. “I take it you know where we’re going, then.”

“Yes,” he said. “But we have things to do first.” Sidious passed her a holocard with a map of Galactic City and shouldered his way through the crowd. 

“Is there a ‘fresher?” Rey asked hopefully, after they’d jumped into a public shuttle, cramming themselves in next to a family of Ithorians. 

Her Master shot her a _look._ Rey grinned.

“Is there somewhere that I can burn this?” she asked, tugging on her soiled tunic. 

Sidious chuckled, but refused to say another word.

 

*

They checked into the first hotel that would take them, winding up several blocks from the Industrial District. The building was old and creaky, but the walls were thick, the bedding was crisp and clean, and the air smelled faintly of lilacs – a huge step up from their previous accommodations. Sidious leaned in the doorway, grinning broadly as Rey took one look at the ‘fresher and all but ripped off her tunic, grimacing with distaste as the cloth stuck to her skin on its way to the floor.

He cleared his throat meaningfully. Rey flushed and walked quickly to his side. She helped him out of his cloak, his boots, and the first layer of his robes before he waved her away. 

“Take five minutes,” he said, gesturing at the shower. 

He didn’t have to tell her twice. She was through the door in a flash, leaving a trail of clothing in her wake. Soon the hiss of hot water on tile and a long, drawn out sigh welled up from inside the ‘fresher. 

Sidious locked the door carefully and removed the rest of his robes, shuddering as the rough itch fell away at last. He paced into the bedroom, enjoying the cool air on his skin, and took stock of the rest of the suite. The floor-to-ceiling windows were made of thick, nearly soundproof glass, and offered a clear view of the city at night. He pressed a palm flat against the cool glass, energy snapping in his blood as he spotted the Palace, still towering wild and golden over Galactic City. 

According to the Holonet, and the smattering of tourist pamphlets he’d picked up in the spaceport, the place was almost completely intact. Better, it was full of people. Once the post-Endor feeding frenzy on the corpse of the Empire had died down, several enterprising souls had decided not to let such a valuable piece of real estate go to waste. Space was at a premium on Coruscant, and such a massive structure, composed of the very best that money could buy, had nearly infinite potential.

Sidious had already purchased two floors in the westernmost tower. They’d take some time to recuperate from the journey, investigate the ‘bioweapons facility’, and get down to business. 

He had such things to show his Apprentice. 

_But for now…_

He glanced back at the 'fresher door. The Force shivered with pleasure. 

He’d counted four minutes so far. 

 

*

 

Rey groaned as the heat soaked into her stiff muscles, washing away the tension and filth of a week of inactivity and squalor. She breathed deep, lathering up with scented soap, her senses sparking awake as her hands glided over flushed, _finally_ clean skin. 

She was so lost in the moment that the ‘fresher door opening barely registered. 

The cool hands encircling her waist certainly did.

“Master?” she gasped. Long denied heat throbbed in waves down the full length of her body. 

“Your five minutes are up,” Sidious murmured, palm splayed flat across her abdomen, his other hand drifting upwards to cup a breast. He kneaded the slick globe gently, humming as lather coated his hands. 

“I believe that you have used up most of the soap, _Darth Lyre,”_ he said.

_My name…_

She moaned, biting down hard on her lip, and pressed her hands over his, drawing him closer. 

“I apologize, Master,” she whispered. Her head swam with his proximity, her fingers digging in as he pulled her flush against him. She gasped as she felt him, hard and hot against the swell of her ass. 

“No matter,” he said. “There’s enough here for both of us. But I think that you need it more than I do…”

His hand slipped between them, gathering up lather, and trailed fire down her hip, coming to rest over her mound.

“I could smell you,” he growled. “Every night. Wet and open and aching…” He dragged a slick finger between her folds.

“Si – Sidious – Master!” she keened, grinding desperately against his hand. 

“Even through the filth and stink…” he chuckled. “I had no idea I had such a _passionate_ Apprentice.”

“Master please – ” Lyre’s awareness shrunk down to the press of fingers, rubbing slick, insistent circles around her entrance, dipping inside, so close – 

“Passionate,” he whispered, dark and low in her ear. “And patient.” Fingers dug into her hips. “And so good…”

He filled her in one rough, thick thrust, bracing himself against the shower wall as she lost her footing, the burning stretch shorting out her mind, the lips and teeth and her Master’s voice at her throat dragging her over the edge.

As she came back down, her mind full of the hot, rippling _clench_ \-- the need for _more_ \-- she thought, with a smile, that it was a very good thing that the walls were several feet thick. 

They had a lot of catching up to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Leia doesn't like Sidious. At all. But she acknowledges his usefulness, and attempts to get along with him for Rey's sake.  
> 2\. Nope, Rey doesn't know her Master's secret identity. YET.  
> 3\. See? This grew a plot!! Sort of.


	4. Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next phase of Rey's training begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stand by for emotional manipulation, angst, smut, and shopping sprees! Also...this is a long-ass chapter, and kind of got away from me a little at the end O_O

Rey winced as a pin dug into her side. She looked askance at Sidious, who was reclining on a plush couch, paging through a look book and sipping champagne. Every so often he’d straighten, or lift an arm so that a red-faced tailor could triple-check the fit of his fine white shirt, fastened loosely in the front with a silk cord. It looked far more comfortable than what she was wearing.

“Is this really necessary?” Rey asked, not quite succeeding in keeping the irritation out of her voice. She’d been standing on a low stool, arms held straight out from her sides, for the past three hours. Granted, she’d been through far worse during her training, but said training hadn’t included one of the bossiest little Humans she’d ever encountered whipping a tape measure along every inch of her body, and pinning bits and pieces of material closer and closer to her skin, until she had to suck in her stomach to avoid becoming a very large, pink, pincushion.

The fact that the tailoring was calling for less and less underwear as the day wore on was _not_ helping. 

She winced again as her Master shot her a warning look. _That_ wasn’t exactly fair, either. They’d finished taking _his_ measurements a half-hour ago, and were already constructing the base layers in the back room of the boutique. 

“You can’t rush art,” he said, smiling apologetically at the head tailor. The graying, whip-thin man smiled around a mouthful of pins, and _winked._

“First time, mmmm?” his assistant asked, stitching a final loop of embroidery onto Sidious’ sleeve. Rey flushed. She didn’t need to look into his mind to know what he was thinking. 

_Just stick it out,_ she thought grimly. _You’ll probably never see these people again._

Her Master had warned her before they ventured out into the city that in certain corners of Coruscanti society, assumptions would be made about their relationship. The best-case scenario was an aristocrat from some backwater world and his trophy wife. 

However, Sidious was confident that they could turn the situation around.

“You’ll learn,” he’d said in her ear, his hands resting lightly on her hips, walking her forward until her breath fogged the window. “How to walk. How to talk…Look out there.” Sidious gestured out the window, beyond the rotting darkness of the Industrial district, past the neon glare of Coruscant’s nightlife, all the way to the glorious lattice of light dominating the skyline; the Imperial Palace, currently known as the Galactic Tower. Sidious had looped an arm around her waist, and told her a story. 

The Tower had been a Temple before it had been a Palace. Long, long ago, when pieces of Coruscant’s earth could still see the sky, a small group of Sith had lived openly, if secretively, in a dark structure, a well of power in the heart of Galactic City (or whatever it had been called in the lost times). Then came the Wars, and the Sith were driven out, their Temple forgotten. The Jedi eventually took it as their own, built over it, a massive ziggurat to house their Order. Coruscant grew up around it, and it became known as the Jedi Temple instead.

Sidious considered it one of the great ironies of the universe; the Temple of Light had been built on the bones of the Dark Side. 

Of course, the Jedi had fallen. The New Order took the Temple, hollowed it out, scoured it of nearly every trace of the Jedi. But the foundation remained, for the heirs of Darth Bane to discover. 

“It was ours first,” he murmured, twirling a shining tendril of her hair around his finger. “We’re going to take it back.”

But first, they had to blend in. 

The Tower was one of the most sought-after pieces of real estate in the entire galaxy. The Galactic City housing board had sold it off in pieces, but kept the main structure intact, for ‘historical purposes.’ It went fast. Buyers ranged from displaced aristocrats and new-money moguls to not-so-secret Imperial sympathizers and interplanetary mobsters. Black Sun, for example, had a floor right underneath the Intergalactic Banking Guild, which was centered under the home office of an on-the-edge tech company largely run by Verpines. Housing companies bought up whole swaths of the place, and rented out the rooms at astronomical prices. 

Sidious had purchased nine floors, a ballroom, an executive-grade spa, and a private turbolift. The floors were scattered at different heights: two in the top sub-level, four clustered in the mid-section, and the remaining three as close to the top as he could get without drawing too much attention. He was constructing a second turbolift on the sly, having convinced the building manager (with both the Force and a considerable amount of credits) to allow him access to the superstructure. When finished, Sidious and Lyre would be able to travel between the floors in total secrecy. 

She was still trying to figure out where the hell the money had come from. But the truth was hidden in miles and miles of Aurebesh, data, checklists, and legal documents that were nothing but a snarl of nonsense to her. She was good with numbers, schematics, and systems. Not words. 

Sidious had not been pleased when he’d found _that_ out, back on Jakku, shortly after she’d begun her training. 

_That look in his eyes…_ It was more humiliating than the worst of physical punishments. She saw it less these days, thanks to the mountain of books, datacards, and brain-training exercises that he immediately threw her way, and had continued ever since, with rapid escalation. Without the fire in her mind, the will to _survive,_ she would have given up long ago, consumed by frustration, panic, and crippling self-doubt. 

She tried not to think about what would have happened to her then. 

But luckily her natural curiosity had latched onto the fresh knowledge like a mynock onto a new speeder. Rey began to think of it as _just another tool,_ like the ship schematics, a new way to crack the world, to make it work for her. Suddenly a whole _new_ world lay at her feet, one that would have passed her by completely, if not for Sidious. 

And there was still so much to learn…

Such as deportment. And _poise._ Simple patience and good manners were not enough if she was going to move smoothly in the gilded spheres of the Coruscanti elite. She supposed that it was, in a way, an extremely high-stakes game of make-believe. Sidious called it ‘borrowing motivation.’

“Watch,” he’d said, the first time they went out in public. “Open yourself to the Force.” They roamed the upper levels, just two beings in a crowd of thousands. Their clean, but worn cloaks helped them fade into the background even more, for Rey to learn to process the sheer _variety_ , the cacophony of thousands upon thousands of minds blazing with energy, mismatched pieces trying to fit together, or at least find some common ground. 

Coruscant was not Jakku. Her shields got one hell of a workout. 

She mirrored Sidious as much as she could, and tried to keep her head down, to take in everything in her peripheral vision. She didn’t want to be caught staring at everything, like some backworld hick. She’d stand out, and not in a good way. Her Master wanted them to blend in. They _needed_ to blend in.

“I’m told it comes more naturally to some people than others,” Sidious said, pausing in front of a dazzling display window. Rey strongly suspected that she was in the latter category. Hiding in a cargo hold where everyone was making a point of ignoring each other was one thing, but somebody was always watching on Coruscant. 

It wasn’t Jakku, where nobody cared what she wore, or how she ate. Rey had known, of course, that matters were different outside her little corner of the Galaxy, but witnessing it was something else entirely. And Coruscant was, well…The Resistance fleet was downright _sedate_ in comparison.

Two agonizing hours later, the fitting was over. Sidious purchased a swath of ready-made clothing to tide them over, and handed the gushing designer the delivery address. Even Rey smiled a little at his expression – the man definitely hadn’t expected to ship ninety-thousand credits worth of couture to the Palace.

 

*

 

The day wasn’t over.

Her training began in earnest in a small restaurant just off one of the main thoroughfares. Sidious hid their rough cloaks in a nearby alley, offered her his arm, and swept her inside. It was neither particularly expensive nor especially busy. The lighting was soft and warm, the air and tables were clean, and perhaps two-thirds of the booths were full. Occasionally the whine or laugh of an infant would rise above the low murmur of conversation, and clink of silverware, prompting annoyed glares and indulgent smiles in equal measure. Most of the customers were human, or close enough that Rey could not readily ascertain the difference – rather typical for middle-class Coruscant. According to her Master, anyway.

The server looked them over, nodded politely, and showed them to their seats. Rey sat quietly, took a sip of water, and tried to figure out what to do with her hands. 

_At least I can read the menu,_ she thought, a strange ache swelling in her chest. _The pictures help, but still…_

A sudden bubble of laughter from the table at her left made her jump. A five or six-year-old human was sounding out the words on his menu, his parents smiling while his slightly older sister wrinkled her nose. Finally, he got it right, and pointed out the brightly-colored dish that he wanted.

Rey’s chest went tight.

_He’s already better than me._

She was nearly blindsided by an inexplicable surge of rage. It howled out of the not-place in her heart, dark and bloody, raking fire down her mind.

 _Is it, though?_ a quiet, faded corner of her mind whispered as she dug her fingernails into her knee and fought for control.

 _I would have learned that,_ she screamed back. She knew. _Ages and ages ago. I would have been_ good. _I would have been --_

_But they left you. When you needed --_

Rey stood her ground, and bottled the anger. She sagged back against the cushioned seat, drained and shaking, avoiding her Master’s eye. Shame flooded through her as she came back to reality. Something so small shouldn’t set her off like that…

“Master…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She flinched as an icy thread of Sidious’ presence flicked across the open wound in her shields. He pressed closer, testing the edges, a freezing blade probing a fresh cut. The shock of the sudden intrusion jolted Rey back into her skin. She patched the hole -- _good for now_ \-- and began to reweave the internal layers of protection.

The wound had, after all, been self-inflicted.

Her Master watched, paged through his menu calmly, teasing the border of her mind. Finally he withdrew, but the message lingered.

_I expected better._

“It’s never too late to learn,” he said aloud, quieter than he needed to. Rey smothered the stab of trepidation and picked up her menu. He leaned closer, beckoned her forward. “And remember; In public, I am Sheev.”

“Yes Mast – Yes, Sheev.”

 _I’m never going to get used to that._ It just didn’t _fit_ him.

The server’s return stopped her reply. 

“Are you ready to order?” the Togruta asked brightly. 

“I think so,” said Sidious, smiling back. He folded his menu, and nodded at Rey.

She picked the first thing that she could read. And water, of course. 

 

*

 

 _She learns fast, at least,_ Sidious thought, as his Apprentice kept one eye on him, and the other on the nearby tables, figuring out which utensil went with what dish. He’d brought her in blind – it was meant to test how well she could adapt to unusual circumstances. He repressed a smile as she stopped herself from drinking directly from her soup bowl.

Sometimes he forgot just how rough around the edges she was. 

But the graces of society could be taught. There was no such thing as inborn nobility. 

As Sheev Palpatine, he had observed, time and time again, just how easily the veneer of civilization could be scraped away, like paint from rotting wood. 

The mechanics of good manners required practice, certainly, but in nearly every culture he’d encountered, two types of leaders emerged: those that believed in their own authority, and those that everyone believed had it. He had played both types, as Palpatine and Sidious.

Everything else was just _details,_ costumes and masks for the show of the day, to be removed and replaced as needed. His young Apprentice had merely grown up in a world nearly stripped of artifice. At twenty, she understood more about the rough beast hiding underneath polite words and smiles than most beings ever would. 

Sidious would teach her to smile when she wanted to bite.

 _It won’t be easy,_ he mused. He had expected an occasional issue with her temper, given the dramatic change in her environment, but the jagged _scream_ that had ripped the Force when they sat down…Well. _That_ was far more serious than choosing the wrong fork. 

Rey tensed, sensing his darkening mood. Sidious finished his soup, regarding her coolly. She was more frustrated than ashamed, really. And furious with herself over her nearly catastrophic loss of control. Confused, too, over the cause. 

Sidious glanced at the family that had set off his Apprentice. 

_Ah…_

“You will need to prepare yourself,” he said. He reached across the table and lay her knife and fork across her plate. “We will be in places like this almost constantly from here on out. That must not happen again. Do you understand?”

“Yes…Sheev,” she said slowly. “It won’t happen again.”

 

*

 

They returned to the hotel soon after, laden down with packages, among which was a set of luggage. Rey stepped quietly, opening the three suitcases and two trunks to air them out while Sidious showered. She unwrapped two bathrobes, a loose tunic, and a set of sleep pants, and laid them on the freshly made bed, careful to keep the lines in order. She stepped back to view her handiwork, an odd, aching, lump in her throat.

Rey had only seen such things in grainy holos, usually of the less than reputable variety. Until that afternoon, anyway. She’d been forced to draw on the Force towards the end of the day, had soaked up sights and sounds until her head whirled. One thing in particular had hit her as they’d walked by a display window stacked with holo projectors. It was a woman preparing her bedroom at the end of the day while her – Rey wasn’t sure if he was a husband or lover – man washed up. The room had been neat and clean, far more elegant than anything that Rey could have imagined growing up. Granted, the woman was going to bed in full makeup, so clearly it wasn’t all _that_ realistic, but there’d been a sense of casual intimacy that had just…stuck. 

It mixed in with something that her Master had told her, soon after they’d left the restaurant. 

“This doesn’t end when you’re out of the public eye,” he’d said. “You will almost _never_ be completely alone.” They retrieved their cloaks from the alley, and covered up their middle-class costumes. “You must adapt -- take the mask inside of you. These,” he said, pointing at both her rough cloak and the respectable dress underneath. “Will both be true, a part of you. For a time, anyway...When you are with me, well, I will let you know if we are truly alone.” He tugged her forward, cupped her face in his hands. “But do not forget,” he’d whispered. “Who you truly are.”

_He’s not your husband,_ she told herself, looking away from the ‘fresher door. _Or your lover. Not really._

He was much more than that. 

She slipped into the ‘fresher when he was done, and sighed with relief when the hot water pounded on her back. 

Unlike Jakku, she’d never run out of water. She could stand in the shower for _hours_ if she wanted. 

Rey bit her lip. It just seemed so…wrong. But oh…it was tempting. Sidious hadn’t given her a time limit, but…Given the incident in the restaurant, she didn’t want to push her luck. She washed up quickly, dried herself off with the blowers, and…She paused at the sink, comb in hand. A small case containing lotions, creams, a bottle of flower oil – to soften her hair, they’d said at the shop – sat on the counter, next to a nightgown and a long, silken robe. 

Rey stared at it for a long moment. Then she picked up the first little glass pot – night cream, apparently, for her face – and followed the instructions as best as she could. Eye cream was next, and then lotion for her arms, legs, and torso. It took a while, probably longer than it should have, but it wasn’t at all like the protective ointment that Rey had sometimes used on her lips and hands when they got too dry, or when the skin roughened and broke when she was scavenging, or training. 

It felt…different. Rey stroked her forearm curiously. Her skin had soaked up the lotion, leaving it softer than she’d ever felt it, smooth and lightly fragrant. Rather…touchable, actually… 

She picked up the nightgown. It was one of three that she’d found folded up in one of the packages. She hadn’t gotten a good look before, just seeing the light, silken pieces of cloth as pieces of her new situation. Two were red as blood, and could be folded up into tiny squares of silk. This one was long and elegant, a floating confection of shimmersilk and lace, fastened in front with a knotted cord. The matching robe was much the same. 

Rey smoothed the oil into her hair with shaking hands. She’d tried growing it out since they’d left Jakku, and had kept it up when she found it growing stronger, easier to handle, to twist into the three knots she favored. It fell past her shoulders in a dark wave, the little pieces around her face curling as they dried. She took a deep breath, and pulled the nightgown carefully over her head. It was light as air, whispering across her skin, a teasing caress. 

Rey steeled herself, and looked in the mirror. She froze. A fragile beauty stared back at her. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright and clear, shining tendrils of hair framing the delicate bones of her face. The nightgown covered her from shoulder to toe, but the drape and drift did nothing to hide her curves. From the right angle, the thin material revealed soft planes of skin, the subtle dip and shadow between her thighs, and the rosy tips of her breasts. Innocence that beckoned. 

Understanding dawned. 

_An illusion,_ she thought. _With a piece of truth._

Darth Lyre was no maiden. Her innocence had died long ago. But she wore it well. 

* 

The light was low when she left the ‘fresher. Her Master stood in shadow by the window, his back to her, gazing out into the night. The glittering lattice of the Palace was clearly visible, framed by the floor to ceiling window. Rey’s breath caught. From where she was standing, it looked as though he could reach out and touch it, keep it, take it in his hands, cradle it like a precious gem. Or a toy. 

He turned to face her. The faraway light caught in his hair like frozen fire, his eyes alight with eldritch gold. The robe that she’d laid out for him was draped dark and elegant across his shoulders, and open in the front, revealing a deep V of alabaster skin. Rey couldn’t have looked away if she’d tried. 

The silence hung heavy between them. Then -- 

“Turn around.” 

She did, heat rising inside of her. 

_He’s seen you naked,_ she thought fiercely. _Seen everything. You’re dressed._ So why did she feel so horribly exposed? 

She stood before him in silence for a long moment. Then came a soft rustle of cloth, and footsteps at her back. Rey stood her ground, shutting her eyes against the shudder in her chest as she felt his heat at her back and his breath on her neck. 

Finally, hands settled on her hips, traced slow, firm circles over the silk. Rey bit back a gasp. The gentle touch smoothed heat through the slippery material in long, soft strokes. His lips found her throat, caressed the soft skin, laying careful pressure over her pulse. She melted into him, a moan falling from her lips when he cupped a breast and traced slow circles along the curve. The Force swelled with promise when he brushed an aching, pebbled nipple, making her gasp. Her head swam with sensation. 

He’d never touched her like this before. The few times they’d come together, it had been rough and fast, a tangling ache of lust and pain that she’d thirsted for since the first time he’d shown her the truth of the Dark, a craving that she could somehow never satisfy. Even the previous night, when he’d shaken her awake twice and fucked her raw, and she came so hard that her power cracked the headboard, she’d been left with that edge of want. 

But this…He was building a slow fire, fueling it strong and hot. 

_Why?_

Rey decided to figure it out later when he dragged a strap off her shoulder with his teeth. 

She reached behind her. Sidious caught her wrist before her fingers closed around his shaft. He turned her to face him and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her closer. Long fingers twined in her hair and pulled out the pins, letting her hair fall free. Rey forgot to breathe when he drew her tight against his body and cupped her cheek in his hand, stroked the delicate lines slowly, carefully, drawing her eyes to his. Something inside her _cracked._

“Master – “ 

Rey’s fingers twisted in his robe as she swayed on her feet, the Force shuddering in her bones, needing to move, screaming to stay. Sidious’ arm tightened around her. 

“Shh…It's all right...” He held her steady as the Force roared around them, tilted her head back, and kissed her. 

Rey opened for him, gasping at the heat of his mouth, the sweet pressure of lips and teeth. She gathered up handfuls of his robe and tugged, arching her back, forcing him to bend forward to hold the kiss, to press his hips to hers. 

They broke apart when Sidious groaned into her mouth, his hand sliding down to grip her ass hard enough to bruise. Rey sagged against him, flushed and panting. After a moment, she took advantage of her position and opened his robe wide, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along his collarbone, the smooth, hard muscle of his chest, smiling at the involuntary shiver. She lingered at the dip at the base of his throat, added just the suggestion of a bite. 

A dark chuckle rumbled in his chest. Sidious gripped her tight, and then swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her down slowly, eyes never leaving her face, and knelt between her legs. 

Rey sat up halfway, breathing hard, dazed, the delicate material of her gown suddenly feeling as rough as sandpaper, a smothering weight on her overheated skin. She reached down to pull -- _rip_ \-- it off, but Sidious stopped her again, catching her wrists and pressing them firmly to the mattress, his meaning clear. She nodded, and gripped the sheets tight when he released her, hovered over the silken ties holding the gown together. 

Sidious took his time. He pulled the ties apart loop by loop, fingers flickering with slow precision over satin and skin as Rey trembled from head to toe, her blood on fire, fingers twisted in the bedsheets, wanting to snarl, to haul him down, to make him devour her, make him _bite._

But she stayed still, save for the pounding of her heart, and the shuddering heave of her chest. She was slick and aching by the time he finished, and spread open the halves of her bodice, baring her before him. 

Sidious’ breath caught. 

Rey’s head fell back helplessly as the Dark Side howled, snapping at her core, blood-hot, demanding. She _reached_ for it, letting her thighs fall open, canting her hips upward. Her Master sat back on his heels, riding out the wave, eyes tasting every inch of her as he shucked off his robe. 

He pulled her hands up to his shoulders as he braced himself over her. Rey clutched at him, trembling, as he slid hot and thick along her folds, coating himself with her slick, so close…

“Beautiful.” 

The low, rough word burned deep in her core. Rey _whimpered_ and clung to him, squeezing her eyes shut, whispering his name when he pressed inside.

He opened her with shallow, careful thrusts, sliding deeper each time until she was flushed and shaking with want. She moaned low in her throat when their hips met, and dug her heels into his back. He’d taken her so slowly, coaxed her so wide, so well, that Rey was wetter than she’d ever been. And yet, somehow, she felt full to the point of breaking. Her lips parted as his cock stretched her, and struggled to relax as her walls squeezed the thick head, hot and sweet and deeper than she remembered. 

Sidious groaned into her shoulder as she clenched around him. 

“That’s it…” he growled, bracing himself on her hip, and thrust hard. Rey cried out and rocked against him, nails digging red crescents into his skin, trying to drag him deeper. Her senses blurred as he set a slow, steady rhythm, grinding deep and thick, sending her half out of her head. Rey reached for control, grasped it tight as he prowled along the edges of her mind -- a tear in the Force, a shadow shape that blurred and shifted from one form to another if she tried to focus in on it. Her Master’s true face. 

_Remember this,_ she thought, as Sidious reached a place inside her that made her arch her back and keen. 

Rey opened her eyes. She felt the frozen Dark run its teeth along the edges of her mind, almost playful as it tasted her heat, watched it fill her head with heady promises. She felt the red-haired man's breath hot against her breast, and the smooth rhythm of muscle moving under heated skin, and watched his hand slip down to where they were joined, and press rough and sweet against her clit. 

She wondered what he saw when he looked at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **EDIT 11/8/16:** Cinnamon_Girl drew me FANART! Beautifully NSFW fanart... Here it is: http://66.media.tumblr.com/1bfdb456a0cdd094853cf6f826c7112e/tumblr_og55y8SxSk1s5344ko1_1280.jpg
> 
> 1\. Sidious knows that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. And he’s got a thing for seduction. This might even count as _roleplay_ for them...This chapter was supposed to be way more carefree, I swear! 
> 
> 2\. You can’t throw someone to the sharks without teaching them to swim. Rey’s point of reference for how to live out in the world is about as far from Sidious’ as it is possible to get. He doesn't want another Maul. 
> 
> 3\. The Master/Apprentice thing will start getting a bit darker in the coming chapters…Remember that they’re Sith. 
> 
> **4\. The Obligatory Mean Girls Meme:**  
>  **Rey:** My Master wanted me to get socialized.  
>  **Kylo:** Oh, you’ll get socialized all right, a little slice like you.  
>  **Rey:** What are you talking about?  
>  **Hux:** You’re a regulation hottie.  
>  **Rey:** What?  
>  **Kylo:** Own it.

**Author's Note:**

> Pinterest page: [here](https://www.pinterest.com/onelightpoint/indulge/) O_O


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